Easy Glee
by xLessxThanx3x
Summary: AU based off of Easy A. Puck hasn't slept with any guys or girls. But when one lie turns into a rumor and his friend Santana asks for a favor, he becomes the slut of McKinley, a red A on his chest, no one but Cheerio Kurt talking to him. Eventual Puckurt.


**And So it Begins**

_"The rumors of my promiscuity have been greatly exaggerated. Which is weird, since people used to not care what the fuck I did. I was just Puck, the guy who was pretty good at football and had a nice bod, but that was it. No one cared much about me. But then all this shit happened, and...okay. Let me just say why you all are here. _

_ "Let the records show that I, Puck, being of sound mind and an above average gun size—seriously, have you seen these things," Puck flexed his guns, kissing them before turning back to his webcam, "but yeah, I'm just usin' this video to show that I'm not as big of a manwhore as everyone thinks I am. There may be like two sides to every story or whatever, but this side is the right one: mine._

_ "So, whatever, part one," he grabbed a paper from his desk and lifted it up, "AKA, __The Shudder-Inducing and Clichéd, However Totally False Account Of How I Lost My Virginity To A Guy At A Community College."_

—

"There is not a sexy guy named George," Artie insisted, rolling himself down the hallways of McKinley high school with his best friend, Puck.

"Sure there are!"

"Name one."

"…I don't know. But my George is sexy."

"You don't even know him!"

"I told you, I do!" Puck insisted, "He goes to college with my sister." He left out the fact that his sister was younger than him and therefore, obviously, didn't attend college. He also left out the fact that he had no date whatsoever, guy or girl.

"Admit it, you just don't want to go because you hate my parents," Artie said, stopping in front of Puck and turning to face him.

"I do _not_ hate your parents," Puck replied.

_That was a lie. I don't know if you know the Abrams but they're…creepy. All perma-smiles and super hippie-ish and shit. Yeah, they support their son and all that and they're sweet, but I swear they've killed and will kill again. Creepiest people ever. So when he asked me to go camping with them, I lied and said I was going out with Sara's friend George. He never met Sara so he couldn't really know what was going on anyways. And no, I have no idea what a guy in a wheelchair does when camping. Go figure._

"Fine whatever. But this date better be freaking boss because I'll be having one of the worst weekends of my life," he pouted, starting to roll again.

"Hey, you could always ask that Brittany chick, the one who likes wearing those bunny ears to school? She likes you." Artie shook his head and Puck shrugged, "I'll do my best to have fun, then. You should try it too, buddy."

Artie scoffed after a moment. "Seriously, George? I know you like guys as well as girls, and as a straight guy I can't understand why a guy would want to have sex with another guy to begin with, but what's so great about yelling the name George at climax?"

"Climax?" a female voice asked. The boys turned and found Mrs. Pillsbury-Schuester.

_Now, Mrs. P has to be my favorite teacher at school. I don't even like English but not only is she such a fox to look at, she's actually really awesome. I don't know if she likes me so much anymore, though…but that shit's for later._

"Climax as in that shi—stuff you talked about in class yesterday. When things are, like, at their dramatic height in a story," Puck said innocently. "Why, what were you thinking?"

"Oh, yeah, the same thing," she said, her eyes wide. "That's the, uh…that's the only climaxes I deal with…well…" She walked away from Puck and Artie awkwardly, brushing imaginary dirt off her skirt.

Artie stared at her ass before shaking his head, "She's nice looking and all, but she is so _weird_."

"Dude, she has OCD and she's married to that Schuester douche, the guidance counselor in charge of Glee? He's beyond creepy. Be nice to her," Puck reprimanded, both of them continuing on leaving the school and going on the walk/roll to the parking lot.

When they reached the old beat up truck that Puck took to school, Artie said, "Well, be ready to tell me all about your weekend on Monday. And just know I still hate you."

Puck snorted, "Yeah, whatever, dude. See ya, Monday. Gotta go get ready for my hot date, y'know."

"Have your first date with a guy and suddenly you're acting like a girl," Artie joked, wheeling back to where his mom was waiting. As soon as he got situated in the car, Puck drove off, ready for a weekend alone.

—

Puck sighed as he entered his room, opening a card from his Nana. Ooo, there was totally money in that thing, fuck yeah—

_**"I got a pocket, got a pocketful of sunshine, I got a love—"**_

He closed the card immediately and made a face. "Such a chick song," he muttered, setting the card down to the side.

The next day Sara, his little sister, invaded his room, red nail polish in hand. Seeing the glitter on the card—honestly, his Nana seemed to think he was some prepubescent girl—she grabbed it and opened it, the song filling the room.

As she made him paint her toes, he started singing along under his breath, "I got a pocket, got a pocketful of sunshine…"

"Your turn, Natasha," Sara teased, grabbing his feet and painting them. Puck simply nodded and kept on singing along, used to Sara doing things like that to him. Hey, he was the school badass, but he had a soft spot for his sister. Nothing wrong with that.

But that night, Sara was off having a life, sleeping over at some friend's house, and his mom was out working. Artie was out camping, obviously, and his other friends…well…Puck had friends on the various teams he played on but they were never really close friends.

_**"Do what you want but you're never gonna break me, sticks and stones are never gonna shake me oh, oh woah oh…"**_

The next day, he kept singing with the card, enjoying how he could open and close it, the song restarting again every time. _**"I got a—" "I got a—" **_

Later that day, Puck's mom, Maewashed his hair—well, Mohawk—and he brought down the card, singing along to the music. Mae got into it, too, singing along with her son, taking an extra long time to do the hair so she had an excuse to keep singing.

"TAKE ME AWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY, A SECRET PLAAAAAAACE, A SWEEET ESCAAAAAAPE, TAKE ME AWAAAAAAAAAAY!" Puck belted in his room Sunday night. "I got a pocket, got a pocket…" oh. The card was dead now. Damn.

He needed to sleep anyways.

—

"It was great, romantic and all that gay dates are supposed to be. I just feel like I've got a love and I know that it's all mine, y'know?" Puck said, smirking. He had never dated a guy before, so he was just acting like girls always did at school after their hot dates.

"So are you ever going to see him again?" Artie asked.

"Nahh, it's just one of those weekends, y'know?"

"Wait, the whole weekend?"

"Yeah," Puck said mindlessly.

Artie stopped him, staring up at him with wide eyes. "You _didn't_!"

"What?" he asked, genuinely confused. Realizing what his friend was implying, his eyes widened. "Of course not!"

"You liar! You totally lost his V card to him!" Artie whispered.

"No, I didn't," Puck insisted again and Artie dragged him into the guys' restroom. "Why are we going to the bathroom to talk? And you said _I_ was the one turning into a girl?"

"Tell me about it, dude, c'mon," Artie begged as Puck sat down on one of the benches inside the room.

_I don't know why I lied. I really don't. Maybe there was some shit about being a guy and wanting to say I had gotten some action, maybe it was because Artie's so smart and I wanted to feel like I had something over him. I don't know. But I lied._

"Fine. I did it."

"I _knew_ it!" Artie exclaimed. "Now we get to be super playas together!"

Puck snorted, "Getting Tina Cohen-Chang to blow you doesn't make you a 'playa'."

"There were people there and she chose me, that makes me a playa," Artie said, waving his hands in dismissal, "Top or bottom?"

"Umm both."

"_Damn_, didn't it hurt?"

"Not really, he went slow and all that," Puck said blank faced.

"Any kinky shit?"

"No, just nice and sweet and stuff. But still hot, y'know. Yeah. Good."

After Puck finished that comment, a toilet flushed and seconds later, Finn Hudson left a stall. Puck tensed; no one else was supposed to hear this, especially not Finn.

"Whatchyou looking at, Hudson?" Artie asked as he washed his hands.

Finn shrugged, "Two guys talking about gay sex." Then he shook his head, "No, wait, Quinn told me that gay sex is a sin…so…two sinners. Yeah." He dried off his hands and left the bathroom.

Puck sighed and let his head hit the bathroom wall. "So how was _your_ weekend?"

_Now Finn's a nice guy, he is. In fact, we used to be closer friends than I was with Artie. But when I came out as bi, he had just started dating Quinn Fabray, and she kept saying shit that being gay was a sin and all that, so he just kept going with her, no doubt trying to get some action from her. I don't blame him, he was brainwashed by her anyways, I just blame _her.

_Now you all know Quinn Fabray. Straight A student, president of the Celibacy Club and of the Christian Student Coalition, and, most importantly, the biggest bitch in school. And she always has some major cause to support every year. Last year she spearheaded the campaign to make us change our mascot. We used to be the Titans, but apparently since they were the parents of the Greek gods that made us pagans. Now we're the completely un-fearsome chipmunks. It used to be the Cheerios actually got spirited about the games and shit, now no one cares at all. And I miss seeing all those girls and Kurt jumping up and down. It was a nice sight._

_ But anyways, back to the main point. Now it seemed that her cause of the year was me. Guess it makes sense, I'm a bisexual guy who just lost his virginity to a guy, meaning I was a whore. It's funny, when you sleep with a girl, you've 'gotten some'. When you sleep with a guy, however, you're a slutty faggot. Society, man, it's ridiculous._

_So I knew this lie was going to come back and bite me in the ass because while Finn really didn't care, I knew he would've told Quinn. So it's time for Part Two: The Accelerated Velocity of Terminological Inexactitude…sorry, that's just some shit that I pulled out of my ass to try to sound smarter. Really, it just means how fast my lie traveled. And that velocity was freaking _fast. _Before I knew it, everyone was looking at me like I was a leper or some shit. _

Puck saw Quinn walking down the halls with Mercedes, another one of those hyper religious Christians. Sighing, he asked, "Hey, Quinn, can we talk?"

Quinn rolled her eyes toward Mercedes but nodded, "Give us a minute, girl?" Mercedes nodded and gave Puck a bitch look before walking over to another part of the hall. "What?"

"Look, what Finn told you he heard in the bathroom? That's not the real story. See, I was talking to—"

"Noah, that's your real name, right? Not that Puck name, like the fairy," Quinn said, emphasizing the _fairy_ part in an icy tone.

Puck's jaw tensed, but he nodded.

Giving a cold smile, she continued, "I'm not the one you have to explain your depraved, sinful behavior to, there's a higher power to which you have to respond."

"What, Principal Figgins?"

She raised an eyebrow, "I hope for your sake that God has a sense of humor."

"Please, I have 17 years of evidence that he does."

"Funny," Quinn intoned. Turning on her heels, she left him and returned to Mercedes, her heels clicking on the floor.

Puck watched her go, focused on his own thoughts until someone greeted him. Turning around, he saw someone he had never met before. "Uh…hi?" He shook his head and walked to class, ignoring the stares and whispers.

—

"If anyone asks if you know where I was this weekend, you guys will say I was here, right?" Puck asked his mom and sister as they had dinner. Mae managed to squeeze in family dinners every night between jobs, but besides those she never had much time to talk on weekdays, so Puck did his best to talk to her about important stuff then.

"Yeah, you were in your room like all day every day."

"Except when Ma washed your hair for you," Sara giggled.

"Ha, ha, I'm glad you find the fact that Ma washes my hair amusing when at least she doesn't cut it like she does yours," Puck shot back. Sara stuck at her tongue at him before returning to her food.

Mae rolled her eyes but then asked, "So why do we need to prove that you were here? Oh my God, you didn't rob someone did you? Are we your alibi? Were you really not in your room?" She grabbed at her heart, "Noah, how could you hurt your mother like this?"

It was Puck's turn to roll his eyes, "Ma, I didn't say I had committed a crime, and I definitely am not using this as an alibi against a police report. I'm not that rebellious kid that almost got sent to Juvie anymore, c'mon."

Patting his hand, Mae said, "Okay, kid, I know, just had to check up. But seriously, why?"

"Just some rumor at school," Puck shrugged, letting the conversation end there.

"I got an A on my spelling test," Sara finally said proudly.

"Everything has spell check, though," Puck quipped.

"Shut up, Noah," she said before turning to look at her daughter, "That's great, kiddo. What's your homework for tonight?"

Sara scrunched up her face, "I need to write about my family."

"Tell them that your mom is a glamorous actress and your father is a stay-at-home dad who watches you when your mom's working."

"But I don't have a father here," Sara said, confused.

Mae's eyes widened, "WHAT? Who told you? Was it Noah? I bet it was." She shook her head at her laughing son. "But that's why without him here I can love you twice as much. And work twice as much."

Puck couldn't help but smile a bit. His father was always a sore subject with him, especially when people outside of his family brought it up, but his mom handled it so well, which was good for Sara. Sara didn't need to know how much of an asshole he was, how him leaving was good riddance, even if it hurt to know he didn't care enough to stay. Maybe his family wasn't normal, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

—

_The thing about this situation is that this wasn't the first time I lied about me doing something sexual with a guy. The first time I was in eighth grade, told to spend seven minutes in heaven with Kurt Hummel, a party for the middle school Glee club. Kurt was out, but I wasn't, and that Rachel chick was insistent that I needed to spend seven minutes with him so he could go into high school having kissed someone. This was before Quinn turned all holier-than-thou and before her and Finn were dating, so while they were there, no one cared. They all loved Kurt and loved the idea of him kissing someone, figuring that's what he wanted. _

_ But when we got into the room, we sat there for a long time until he admitted he was nervous. I told him I wasn't straight, that I wouldn't mind kissing him if he wanted, but he said he wasn't ready. I told him it was okay, you know. And when he asked if we could still tell them that we did to make them happy, I said sure. Plus they would've assumed I had told him no if we didn't, that I was being a jerk to him, so I might as well. I was disappointed, but I let it go. He wasn't ready for his first kiss, that was fine. I wasn't ready to come out and he wasn't going to make me do that, either. It was all good._

_ But that's not what we need to talk about right now. So, I go to English, and isn't it ironic that we're supposed to be reading _The Scarlet Letter_? I guess it always turns out like this in high school; you read something for English and it ends up applying to your own life significantly because good literature is supposed to be all like relatable and shit. I guess I could find something to relate to in everything we've read for school…except for that _Alice in Wonderland_ or something. I know a lot of kids who drop acid but not many girls run away with white rabbits._

In English, Mrs. P turned from the board, asking, "Any questions?"

Quinn raised her hand. When she was called on, she said, "I think that Hester was, pardon my language, a major whore."

Emma's eyes widened and she asked, "Uh…you don't see her as a victim at all then?"

"No. She brought it on herself, why should I feel sorry for her," she turned to look at Puck, raising a brow at him. "Maybe you should go ahead a put an_ A_ on your chest."

"Maybe you should _get_ a chest, you A-cup _twat_," Puck shot back, the class laughing as Quinn put a hand to her heart, mortified.

_It definitely wasn't my best line, but it still got me sent to the principal's. Too bad Finn's the office aid there and he was told by Quinn to hate me._

"Sent to the principal's office? Harsh, dude. Guess Quinn is right about you being on a downward spiral or whatever," Finn said, stapling some papers.

Puck snorted, "Doing everything that Quinn says? Looks like someone's whipped."

Finn glared, "Aren't you going to Hell now?"

"I'm Jewish," he said with a shrug, "I don't believe in eternal punishment."

"Oh," Finn smiled. "Dude, maybe I should tell Quinn about there being no Hell if you're Jewish! That's a pretty good deal." Puck snorted and Finn frowned again, "You wore a condom, right?"

"Why should I? Your parents didn't," Puck smirked. Finn sputtered but was cut off as Principal Figgins opened the office door, Azimio and Santana Lopez leaving the room. Although Santana looked pretty beat, a bloodied tissue at her nose, Puck had to smile at the bruise forming on Azimio's eye. Santana had a good right hook. He made eye contact with her before Figgins called him in and he had to go sit in front of his desk.

_Most of you have probably dealt with Figgins before, so I don't think I have to tell you what it was like. He mumbled, he said he was disappointed in my language, blah, blah, blah and he assigned me to detention for the next day after school then sent me on my way._

"Please tell me the rumors are true," Artie pleaded as he wheeled up to Puck in the parking lot.

"Yes, I'm a big, gay whore," Puck said monotonously.

Artie scoffed, "Dude, not that. The rumor that you called Quinn a bitch and punched Finn in the face since you didn't want to punch a girl."

Puck stopped in his steps, "Okay, that's not entirely true." He turned to Artie, "Listen, man, I need to tell you something—"

"Yeah, you do, the exact moment you became such a freaking _bad ass_—"

"What the hell, dude, I've _always_ been a major bad ass. Get with the program, jerk," Puck interrupted. "But seriously, dud, you need to know—"

"I hope he has a black eye from it, that would be the _best_. Dude, I can't believe you did that, I think I'm in love with you," Artie laughed, faking punches.

"Dude, I really didn't, I'm serious."

"Whatever you say, bad ass," Artie winked, turning around and wheeling to his mom's car.

Puck sighed and continued walking. "Hey, Noah!" Only his family and maybe one other person called him Noah…Turning around, he saw Kurt walk towards him, and he felt his whole face light up.

"Kurt!" He realized he was in a completely different outfit, probably one of those designers he was obsessed with. "You're not in full Cheerio outfits, is that even allowed? I'd think Coach Sylvester would, like, kill you for standing out from the rest of the team."

"It's not like Disneyland or anything; I'm not breaking character. I'm just done for the day and wanted to wear clothes that made me feel like myself and not just a Chipmunk Cheerio," Kurt said, walking with him to the parking lot with a shudder at his last words.

Puck laughed, "Sorry, I forgot we weren't at Disneyland. It's hard to tell the difference between Lima, Ohio and Southern California, after all."

"I'll forgive you, it's hard to keep them separate, I know."

"So how _is_ life as Cheerio Kurt? Gotta be nice having the same people who used to make fun of you now forced to do anything you say in case Coach Sylvester finds out they've wronged you."

Kurt shrugged, "It's nice, I guess, but I miss people just being my friend because they liked me, like back in Glee in middle school. I know I could always try Glee here, but it'd be so much more work and Quinn's in it and she hates me now because I'm gay and she's suddenly Little Miss Christian. And Mr. Schue obviously prefers giving solos to guys with lower voices, or at least guys and girls who fit into the Quinn/Finn/Rachel mold." Puck nodded and they kept walking, "Speaking of Rachel, are you going to her party?"

Puck's eyebrows scrunched up; he didn't know she was having a party. They used to be all close in middle school and now she didn't even say anything to him when she came to temple with her dads. "I wasn't planning on it," he finally said. "You?"

Kurt looked disappointed for an instant but soon made his face neutral. "No, my cousin's getting married, so I have a rehearsal dinner the night of the party." They both nodded before Kurt said, "I better get going. See you later, Noah."

"Bye, Cheerio Kurt!"

—

"So I got sent to the Principal's office today."

Mae sighed, dropping her fork and taking a sip of wine. "You're not getting in trouble at school again, are you? I thought you had gotten over your whole bad boy stage after you joined Glee in junior high. Do I have to layer my Jewish guilt over you again, _shmeggegie_?"

"Don't use Yiddish as a way to call me names without me knowing; Sara and I both know you called me an idiot," he rolled his eyes. "I said a 'bad' word in English, so Mrs. P felt obligated to send me," Puck shrugged, not wanting to say what it was in front of Sara, who looked at them innocently over her Chinese food. Then he added, "But we're allowed to read books about sex and pregnancy in class and that's perfectly acceptable. I don't get it."

"How did it start?"

"That Quinn girl made a stupid comment."

"No, not that," Mae said, waving her hand, "I meant what letter."

"_Oh_. T."

"T…T…T…tapioca?"

"That's a pudding."

"Tulsa!"

"That's a city."

"Tuhpahto."

"Those are just random syllables."

Mae thought for a moment, "Huh…just whisper it in my ear."

"That's weird," Puck said, making a face.

"C'mon, grow a pair and do it," Mae said, leaning her ear in. Puck sighed and Sara leaned in, listening intently as Puck whispered it into Mae's ear.

"What's a twat?"

Puck facepalmed as Mae explained, "It's a bad word. Nice whispering skills by the way, kid."

"Whatever. So do I have a punishment?"

Snorting, Mae said, "Yeah, right. If I ground you, you can always just go off while I'm working. If I take away you're computer you can't do all your homework. And if I take away your car I'll have to drive you to school. You're off the hook for now." Puck threw away his now empty Chinese takeout box and kissed Mae on the cheek.

"Thanks, Ma."

—

_The next day, things took a turn for the worse. I thought it was goin' in a good direction but now I realize this is really where everything went downhill. So, part three: A Lady's Choice and a Gentlemen's Agreement._

Puck and Santana sat in the detention room in silence for a while, unsupervised, when Santana finally spoke up. "Hey, Puckerman, what's up with the whole slut vibe?"

Puck looked down at his outfit; it seemed normal enough to him. "What do you mean?"

"Sorry, that must've just been the leftover smell from the rumor mill," she smirked, moving into a seat next to him.

"Ha, ha, very funny," Puck said with an eye roll. "So I guess you've heard the rumors that I'm the new school cockslut."

"Doesn't surprise me, always knew you were more after Hummel's ass than mine," Santana shrugged.

"Well, his ass is just nicer. But both look fine enough to me," Puck replied with his own shrug. "Which rumor did you hear?"

"The one where you lost your virginity to a guy twice your age."

"Oh, no, he was only in community college."

"And he gave you crabs."

"What? That's disgusting. People suck."

Santana snorted, "Tell me about it."

Puck looked over at her, "Why are you even in detention, though? You're a girl and Azimio hit you. Doesn't that give him an automatic detention and a spot as a villain in a Lifetime movie?"

Santana snorted, "Maybe if Figgins wasn't a homophobic asshole. And if I didn't call him a homophobic asshole to his face."

"So the rumors are true."

She feigned confusion, "What do you mean?"

"That Figgins' a homophobic asshole." Santana laughed and Puck smiled. He had missed her over the years. "You know…I made it up. The whole sleeping with a guy thing."

"Wait, _you_ started the rumor?"

"Well, indirectly I sort of…No. Not really."

Santana's eyes narrowed, "But you're not denying it. Or doing anything to stop it. That's fucked up."

"I tried to stop it, but then it got out of hand, and now…I don't know. It's kind of nice to have my bad reputation back. I was tired of having no reputation, good or bad."

"That's no better than those stupid celebs who get drunk for press. You're no better than fucking Ke$ha," she said.

Puck frowned, "I like Ke$ha, though."

"Whatever," Santana rolled her eyes. "I just think it's fucked up. Royally fucked up. I mean, if I could have that back, the whole thing you hated about not having a reputation, I would. I get called 'rug muncher' and 'queer' and 'dyke' every fucking day. It used to be no one cared if I was there or not, and now guys ask if they can fuck me, because obviously I just need a good dick to make myself straight."

He stared at her for a moment, trying to think of what to say. "Maybe you can try being like everyone else. Try blending in. You never did before, you were on the Cheerios and before that you were in the Glee club. You've always been doing stuff, maybe if you tried being like the average girl here you'd be okay."

Santana scoffed, "Oh, fucking genius move, Puck. And so original, too. You should write a movie about it, I'm sure no one else has ever tried just blending in and acting normal. So inspirational."

"Hey, I never said it was the right thing to do. But maybe giving yourself a more suitable label is what we ought to do. Like Quinn, for instance. Maybe she got so into Christianity in high school because it's an easier label than being who she really is."

"Or maybe she turned into a stuck up Jesus bitch because she realized her feelings for Rachel were less than wholesome and she wanted to pray away the bisexual," Santana quipped.

"…No way."

Santana nodded, "It's true. I used to be one of her best friends, remember?"

"Oh yeah. You, her, and Brittany," Puck said with a smile at the memory.

Santana smiled as well, "Yeah…Brittany."

Puck watched her smile for a few moments before turning back to his original thoughts. "Anyways, the point is that it we pretend to be who we aren't to get noticed or to hide away. Why fight it?"

They stayed quiet for a while, thinking over what Puck had said. "So, do you think I'm pulling off the whore ideal?"

"Not too bad for a virgin," Santana shrugged. "Think I could pass as straight?"

"You did in middle school," Puck said, shrugging back at her before the door was open and they were dismissed from detention.

—

"So Brandy Carter told Vanessa Hudges you were in a Jacuzzi with three guys when you lost your virginity," Artie relayed to Puck excitedly as they hung out in the school parking lot, waiting for Artie's mom to get there.

"Better than a guy twice my age giving me crabs."

"Ew, where did you hear that?"

"You remember Santana, from when we were all in Glee?" he asked.

"Isn't she a card carrying lesbian?" Artie asked back.

"What, do they carry around laminated pieces of paper that say 'Official Lesbian' on them?" Puck asked with a laugh. At Artie's raised eyebrows he sighed, "Yeah, she is. We had detention together."

"So are you ever going out with George again?"

"No, I told you, it was a stupid one night stand."

Artie frowned, "I know you're still a dude and all, even if you slept with a guy, but aren't you supposed to be like in love with the guy for popping your cherry?"

"Maybe if I was the only gay character on a CW show, yeah, but I really don't care. I'm more Brian Kinney than anything else," Puck said with a shrug.

His phone started ringing, the ID showing Santana Lopez. "Speak of the devil…Hello, Santana, I was just talking about you to my friend Artie…of course you remember Artie from Glee…come on now…" Artie leaned into the phone, trying to hear what Santana was saying. "He wears glasses, thinks he's black…he's in a fucking wheelchair…yes, yes, that's him."

"_Bih_? What's that? What does Bih mean?" Artie asked in a whisper as Puck continued talking to Santana.

"How you think of that before wheelchair with him doesn't make sense, but yes, that's him…uh huh…yeah, sure, I'll be there in a few minutes. Yeah, see you then," Puck said clicking off his phone. "She wants to come over."

"What does bih mean? Bimbo lover, big heart, big wheelchair? What does it mean?"

"Big Dick, that's what she was saying," Puck said with an eye roll.

"That's my identifier?...Fuck yeah!" Artie whooped, doing a little happy dance as Puck got up.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow Big Dick," he said as he walked to his car, Artie still dancing.

—

"Is there a Puck here?"

"We don't play hockey," Mae said seriously. Then she smiled widely, "Just kidding. Come on in." She let Santana in and closed the door, calling up for Puck, "Noah! There's a young woman here. I think you might finally be scoring with someone!"

Puck looked down from the top of the stairs and smirked at his mom before running down. "Oh yeah, finally getting some action. I can't believe that this day is finally here that I get to sleep with a girl, oh happy day!" he teased as he ran back up the stairs, bringing Santana to her room. "You'll have to excuse my mom; she's insane. She knows that I like guys and girls but wants me to be with a boy, she thinks it's cute, so she jokes about it whenever she can." Santana nodded as Puck sat down. "So what's up?"

"Do you wanna go out with me?" She blurted out. At Puck's look, she continued, "Like, do you want to be my boyfriend?"

"Santana…a few hours ago you were saying you were Kinsey Six gay…"

"Yes, but you said I should pretend to be straight," she pointed out.  
>Puck laughed disbelievingly, "But not with me! You're not really my type."<p>

"Well you're not exactly mine, idiot," Santana shot back.

"Yeah, I think I have a bit too much stuff that's an outie where you want an innie."

"Fine. Will you have sex with me?"

Puck scoffed, "You _totally_ missed the point, San."

"No, Puck, I got the point," Santana insisted. "You said I should play it straight until I could get out of the idiocy of Lima, I get it. You want me to _pretend_ to be straight." She looked at him slyly and he finally realized what she meant.

"No. No, no, no, no, no, no. No. No, no. No." Puck repeated.

"C'mon, you just pretend to have sex with me once and your slutty image is increased because, hello, you slept with a guy _and_ a girl in one week. And I don't have to worry about guys thinking I just need the right cock to fuck me."

"Why don't you just make someone? That's what I did!"

"And who would believe me?" Santana asked hopelessly. Puck looked up at her and bit his lip. She had never looked so helpless and forlorn. She had always been the tough spitfire girl with a voice that could make you cream your pants, and now she was a shaken girl trying to get her footing. How could he not help her.

He sighed, "I don't do anything half assed." He stood up and locked eyes with her. "Rachel's party is tomorrow night. Anyone who is anyone will be there, meaning all those idiot jerks who hate on you will bet there. So we'll show up, pretend to have sex for everyone to hear, and go home. I was sensational and rocked your world. You'll be a hero, and I'll have another fake notch for my bedpost. Sound fair?"

Santana smiled at him in relief. "Thank you so much, Puck, I don't know how to repay you." She watched him awkwardly before hugging him briefly before pulling away. "That didn't feel right."

"Yeah, please don't hug me again. It goes against everything I know and think and feel about Santana Lopez," he teased. "Now get out of my house and meet me here to go to her house at 7 o'clock sharp." She opened the door and watched her go down the stairs. "And where something girly!"

—

**A/N: **I hope this was somewhat passable for everyone. _Easy A_ is one of my all time favorite movies and this idea has been in my head for weeks, so I finally got to writing. Hope you all enjoy it. And remember, reviews are love.

Love,  
>xLessxThanx3x<p> 


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